Spalling just shook his head. “’Tain’t that easy, One-Eye. Whot I’m haulin’ for ’er is a rath’r hefty payday. Don’t wanna give tha’ kinda money up afore thinkin’ real hard.”
His single dark eye narrowed thoughtfully. “Surely there ain’t nothin’ so important that it can’t be replaced wit’ other blunt.”
There was a lengthy pause as the captain rubbed his gray, grizzled beard. He was likely thinking if his new first mate would be worth the chance to trust, especially when he’d been told what had happened to his predecessor.
Finally, Spalling leaned across the table and lowered his voice. “You’ll find out everythin’ ye need t’ know once ye show yer worth t’ me crew. Agreed?” He held out his callused hand as they shook to seal the deal. “Welcome t’ th’Clara Belle, One-Eye.”
Standing, the captain stretched. Turning back to his companion, he said with a mischievous wink, “Now, let’s go find us a wench t’ pass th’ mornin’! We got a long night ahead o’ us.”
As Spalling sauntered up to the bar to further his acquaintance with their serving maid, a rather buxom redhead, Ridge feigned enjoyment in the last dregs of his ale. Once he was confident the captain was fully distracted, he headed toward his room above the tavern, stopping there only briefly to scribble a few short lines. He folded the single sheet of vellum and sealed it with a small dollop of wax, before stepping back into the hallway.
He paused to listen and wasn’t surprised to hear Spalling’s coarse laughter floating up the stairs, while muffled snores from the rest of the crew could clearly be heard from the closed doors on either side of his. He knew most were likely to sleep off their first rowdy night ashore, but even so, he wasn’t about to take any unnecessary time.
He headed down the servant’s staircase, his boots making a whisper of sound, as he slipped into the dim alley. He walked hastily and kept close to the wall in order to shadow his tall frame, until he found what he was looking for.
Or, more particularly, whom.
His contact was slouched on the front steps of a rundown flat, but the hunched figure quickly straightened at the unmistakable trod of footsteps on the cobblestones. “It’s about time ye got ’ere,” the messenger grumbled nervously, though he reached out his hand, as was the customary routine of this repeated encounter.
A gold guinea was placed into his palm, along with a sealed packet. “Make sure this reaches the Duke of Chiltern posthaste.”
A pair of worn, brown eyes rolled with exasperation, although he nodded. “Aye. I know whot t’ do, guv’nr.”
Shoving both items into his ragged, old coat, he shuffled off, while Ridge watched his retreat with a touch of wary unease.
Chapter Eight
“Oh, you look just lovely, my lady! Come and see!” Genevieve exclaimed, standing back and examining her handiwork. Triana reluctantly glanced at the cheval mirror at her ladies’ maid’s enthusiastic request — and blinked at the beautiful image reflected back at her.
Her sable hair had been pulled up into an elegant mass of shining curls; a few seed pearls had been laced throughout the coiffure, the same of which also adorned her slender neck and dainty ears. Long, thick lashes outlined brilliant, blue eyes, and due to the silver silk and lace adorning the gown, had succeeded in illuminating them to an astounding shade of aquamarine. The sweeping neckline and empire waist hinted at her curves without giving them away, while a pair of lily-white gloves ended above her elbow, just shy of a tiny puffed sleeve.
In all appearances, she had the look of a well-bred, sophisticated lady, but inwardly, she certainly didn’t feel like one.
Ever since her intimate interlude with Gabriel in the parlor three days before, Triana had come to a conclusion. While she was a virgin, it didn’t mean she was ignorant about what happened between a man and a woman. She had lived part of her life in the country, after all. She’d seen the mating habits of animals. It was obvious that Gabriel desired her. While she might just be a plain spinster to theton, she had been aptly schooled in the art of feminine flirtation, just the same as any other twittering debutante in her first season. Wouldn’t it be a shame to put all that knowledge to waste?
Thus, she had formulated a new plan.
If Gabriel could use pleasure to keep her from delving into his secrets, then why couldn’t she do the same and use his weakness for her into confessing them?
With her resolve in place, she accepted her shawl from Genevieve and headed downstairs, prepared to do battle. Travell and her mother were already waiting for her. Upon seeing her, conversation abruptly ceased and Triana knew they had been discussing her, for even now, Amelia had trouble meeting her gaze.
However, her brother offered her a compliment and a warm smile, being the first to break the awkward silence. “You look absolutely enchanting, Tri.”
She inclined her head, trying to appear poised, but she still couldn’t quite forget that he had lied to her. “Thank you. And as always, you make a lasting impression.” She wondered if he might have caught the slight inflection to her tone, for his eyes narrowed slightly. Although the moment quickly passed as he smoothed his hands down his charcoal evening wear and shot her a mischievous wink.
Amelia threw a shawl about her shoulders with a decided huff, her pinched expression showing quite plainly that she would not be praising either of them. “Shall we be off? It would be in very bad taste to arrive too late.”
Travell rolled his eyes dramatically at Triana before gathering his cane. Offering his arm to both of the ladies, he led the way to their waiting barouche, where he first handed in Lady Trenton and then Triana, and then finally climbed inside and tapped on the roof to let their driver know they were ready to go.
***
The scene that awaited them at number 94 St. George’s Square in Piccadilly was a lavish affair, akin to something out of a fairytale. Even Triana, who had made up her mind to make a single purpose out of the evening, was not immune to the charm that radiated from the three-story, Palladian mansion.
After waiting in line for several moments, the carriage finally rolled up to the front of the building, but even before it had completely halted, one of the footmen was there to let down the steps and offer a hand. Triana carefully held up her gown with one hand and allowed the servant to assist her down. She took a moment to admire the gold and silver ornamentation that made the grand entrance to the home sparkle in invitation.
“By your awe-struck expression,” Travell teased at her side, “one would think you’d never seen Egremont House before.”
“I have. It just seems even more remarkable tonight.” She gave a meaningful pause. “However, it just goes to prove that no matter how well you think you know something, there’s always something new to discover.”
